


Pavlov's Dogs

by emmaliza



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Abortive Sex, Angst, Brain implant, Brainwashing, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Post-Episode: s01e03 Cygnus Alpha, neural inhibitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25302520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: In which Gan tries to help Blake deal with the consequences of how the Federation have played with his mind, and is forced to deal with the consequences of how they've played with his.
Relationships: Olag Gan/Olag Gan's Woman, Roj Blake/Olag Gan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Pavlov's Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the kinkmeme asking for fic where, because of his inhibitor, Gan can't have sex.

The Liberator is rather alien to Gan's sensibilities. He's not going to complain about it, as he's pretty sure it's alien to everyone's sensibilities, but still stepping into the sterile white rooms feels far more like coming to another world than arriving on Earth did. Zephron was a simple place, a humble place, but Gan knows he's not going back there. There's nothing left for him there.

At least the beds are generous, he thinks as he finds a room he's willing to call his own; tall and broad as he is, he should fit in without trouble. So long as he doesn't find a partner.

As soon as he's had that thought there's a knock on the door, catching him by surprise. “What is it?” he calls.

“It's me, Blake.” A pause. “Can I come in?”

In truth, Gan hasn't had enough time to figure out how to let Blake in, but apparently Blake can work it out himself, the door sliding open with an unsettling hum. Gan nods at him politely, and Blake nods back, before raising a knuckle to his mouth to chew on it nervously. “Is something wrong?”

“What? Oh, no.” Blake stops and presses his hands together. “No, I just came to thank you. For what you did down there. I don't think any of them would have joined me without you.”

In truth, not many of them had been able to join – it seemed only he and Vila had made it out alive. He isn't sure he'll miss Arto's bullying, or Selman's sneering, but still... “It was nothing,” he shrugs. He wouldn't have wanted to stay on Cygnus. The others all seemed to be looking to him as their leader, perhaps because as the biggest and strongest of them, they thought the law of the jungle should make him so, and that sort of thing makes Gan uncomfortable.

Blake laughs. “Oh, it was certainly more than nothing,” he says, and gingerly takes a seat on the bed (Gan's bed, he supposes it is now). “But still. Thank you.”

Gan frowns. “There's something else,” striding over to join him.

Looking uncharacteristically embarrassed, Blake hesitates a moment. “There is. I wanted your help with something.” Gan nods and waits for him to continue. “It's my memories. They're coming back, but – only in bits and pieces, I'm afraid. There are things I remember, about – about men. Memories I think they took away from me when trying to make me the perfect citizen. I was hoping you could help me jog those memories – if you're willing, of course, I don't want you to feel pressured into anything.”

“Alright,” he says. Helping Blake jog his memories sounds like the least he can do. “What do you need me to do?”

Blake gives him a look, and then it suddenly slides into place. _Oh_.

His eyebrows rise in surprise. “Well, I'm very flattered,” he says, which is neither an agreement nor a refusal. “But I'm afraid I don't have much experience with men myself.” He and Maxine had been together since they were teenagers, after all, and he had never wanted for anyone else. “Are you sure I'm the right person to ask?”

“Among my limited options? Yes, I think so.” Blake gives a faintly amused smile. “Vila, I'm afraid, would take advantage of the opportunity to help himself to what little property I own, and Avon...” he trails off. Ah, yes, Gan can understand Blake not being ready to trust Avon with his vulnerability, physical or mental.

“Again, you don't _have_ to,” Blake insists. “I understand that I'm hardly pin-up material, even if you did like–” he coughs. “If you turn me down, I promise, I will say no more about it.”

“No, no, it's alright.” Was that an agreement? Gan doesn't know. _Should_ he sleep with Blake? It has been awhile, and he isn't sure when he would get another offer. He was quite willing when Kara showed an interest in him (and he flinches to remember she is also dead, even if he hadn't gotten to know her properly) – Maxine was gone, after all, and she was always practical enough for the both of them; she wouldn't want him to waste his life pining after her. When they'd thought they'd only be able to get one visa from Zephron to Earth, she was quite understanding at the thought he might wander while he was away. _As long as you come back to me in the end, I don't mind what you get up to._

The memory bruises deep inside him. If only she had stayed.

But there's no point dwelling on the thought; he has to deal with the here and the now. And the here and now is Blake, who had something taken from him, something important, and is trying to get it back.

“I want to help,” Gan tells him.

Slowly Blake breaks into a relieved grin, reaching out to embrace him, before thinking that might be a bit too much too fast and settling for a warm squeeze on the shoulder instead. “Well. Should we get started?”

Gan nods, although in truth he isn't entirely sure how. Blake doesn't seem certain either, and so at first it's all a bit awkward, both of them making a puzzle of how to slide their noticeably large bodies together so their lips can touch. Kissing Blake isn't like kissing Maxine (he shouldn't think about Maxine now, that isn't fair on her or Blake). Blake, Gan notes with some amusement, doesn't seem used to kissing someone physically stronger than him, even if he does prefer men. His hand grasps firmly at Gan's neck to pull him in closer. He groans as Gan pushes a tongue into his mouth, nails digging in harshly to Gan's forearm. He seems to enjoy it, at least.

Instinctively, Gan wraps his strong arms around the small of Blake's back, and pulls him down onto the bed. Blake follows him willingly, a sizeable erection pressed against Gan's thigh, square hands reaching to deal with the loose drawstring of his trousers. Kissing Blake isn't like anything else Gan has ever done, but warmth and affection spreads between their bodies as they grind together, transforming into arousal, blood rushing south toward Gan's groin, towards Blake's hand–

And then everything starts to sting.

Gan doesn't notice it at first, a dull buzz that suddenly sharpens into complete agony, blocking out everything outside himself. He screams and thrashes upon the bed in pain, while his brain fills up with blisters, the hideous sound of screaming, _please, Olag, please help me; please sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to kill her, I was just trying to have some fun, but she wouldn't be quiet–_

With a horrible, sickening crunch, it's all over. When Gan comes back to himself he finds Blake's arms are wrapped around him tightly, either to comfort or restrain him. He exhales in relief, breath warm against Gan's neck. “Well, if I'd known I was that bad, I'd have taken care of myself.”

Gan can hear the distress in his voice, and smiles to try and reassure him. “It's not your fault.” The act falters quickly though; he's not a good liar. “It's the Federation. They – did something to me. I can't–”

They said the limiter would prevent him committing further acts of violence, and in truth Gan didn't understand what that meant. It didn't kick in during the fight on Cygnus Alpha, but it does now. Gan's stomach turns sick at the implication, at _why_ they must think he killed that trooper. He remembers what they said at his trial: the story about this promising young officer, not nineteen years old, whose life was brutally cut short by this barbarian from the edge of the sector – and the woman who, according to Federation records, didn't exist at all, so how could he claim to have been acting in her defense?

He and Maxine only came to Earth because they thought they'd have a better life there, at the centre of the Federation, than on their desolate rocky home a million spacials from anywhere. Too late did he realise that on Earth, they weren't considered alive at all, just objects to be played with while entertaining, and discarded when they proved dangerous.

Blake looks up at him, not with curiosity like he expects, just sympathy. “I understand.” And of course he does. The Federation have done something to him too. They are both victims of their mind breaking.

Gently, Blake kisses his brow before pushing himself up and getting to his feet, arousal clearly thoroughly quashed by what happened. Still, just as he reaches the door he pauses. “Gan,” he says. “I'm going to destroy them.”

Still getting his breath back, Gan nods. “Good,” he says. “I want to help.”

Blake smiles at him, then walks out. It's funny. Gan was never a very political man – he just wanted to keep his head down and stay out of trouble, live a long and happy life with his family. But the Federation don't think him a man at all, just an animal, a brute to be kept in line with fear and pain. The thought makes him angry, and Gan's anger scares him. It makes him think of how it felt when that trooper's neck snapped beneath his hand.

But Blake, Blake is angry too, and he wants to do something with that anger. Channel it, use it, make a better world from it. Gan wants to believe he can do the same.

The Liberator might be alien to him, but there is nowhere else for him to go.


End file.
